


Shrapnel

by ThatPeskyAloe



Category: Hotline Miami (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Blood and Injury, Crying, Explosions, Injury Recovery, M/M, Panic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-03 05:27:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21174167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatPeskyAloe/pseuds/ThatPeskyAloe
Summary: When Sasha came back to his senses, his ears were ringing. He didn't want to open his eyes, his head hurt. But he did nonetheless, and-"Holy fuck, Damon!"





	Shrapnel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Anonyma](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonyma/gifts).

When Sasha came back to his senses, his ears were ringing. He lay still, trying to think around the noise piercing his thoughts; what the fuck had just happened? Things had been going well, flawlessly maybe. They'd cleared the whole building, just the two of them, blazing a trail through the Columbians. Then, when they had opened the door to a back room to check inside, everything went white, and the sound of an explosion ripped through them.

It explained the ringing, but not the lack of pain, or the warm weight on top of him- what was that? He didn't want to open his eyes, his head hurt. But he did nonetheless, and-

"Holy fuck, _Damon_!"

Damon was on top of him, and then it made sense. He'd fucking shielded him that idiot, and took the force of it himself. His heart was already racing as he struggled out from underneath him, eyes widening as he spied the shrapnel peppering his back, the blood soaked into his pink bodywarmer. He reached out to shake his shoulder, to try and get his attention, sheer panic bubbling up in his chest when he didn't get a response. This couldn't be happening, no way, no fucking way.

"D-Damon! Wake up!" He shook him again, more urgently this time, and his heart soared when he got even just a tiny groan from him.

He was alive, thank fuck- though it set in then that he may not be for long, losing blood like that. Panic set in anew, making his hands tremble.

"Damon, please, _please_..." He noticed dully that his own arm was bleeding. "Wake up, for fucks sake! You're not fucking dying here, we need to get out of here!"

Damon finally stirred, lifting his head and making Sasha's heart leap into his throat when he saw the blood dripping down his face. He propped himself up, and promptly dissolved into cussing as the movement jostled the shrapnel in his back.

"_Fuck_!" He swore through clenched teeth, seemingly missing the adrenaline that was keeping Sasha from feeling his arm. He noticed the blood on him. "Shit- your fuckin' arm, Sasha-"

"What about your fucking..." Sasha waved his arms, absolutely taken aback by the concern. "... Everything! We need to get you out of here, christ- why did you get in front of me like that, you... You..."

He swallowed hard, a lump growing in his throat. Damon struggled to sit up, breathing hard but managing to prop himself up onto his knees. Drops of blood fell onto the floor. "...What?"

"Nothing, never mind! Just- come on, lean on me." Sasha said, dismissing himself, standing up and offering his hand to Biker where he knelt on the ground. They didn't have time for that yet, Damon was all that mattered right now. "There are... There are doctors, at the main building. Just hold on until we get there, got it?!"

Damon stood on shaky legs, and soon found his arm around Sasha's shoulders. He coughed, and Sasha turned his head quickly, terrified of seeing blood on his lips and trying not to gasp in relief when he saw none. Biker leant heavily on him, head swimming and his entire back throbbing in pain, cursing between sharp breaths.

"And bleed all over your nice car?" He laughed a tiny bit, and then swore as the movement made pain flare in his senses. "...No way."

"Yes fucking way!" Sasha bit back. "Don't fuck around at a time like this, you... Idiot!"

"Did you check out the back room?"

"Fucking- no! You're more important than whatever the hell might have beem back there, it doesn't matter!"

They made their way to the door, slowly, with Sasha both nervous to get moving faster and unwilling to hurry the already injured Damon, who seemed to be having a hard enough time putting one foot in front of another anyway. He bundled him into the passenger seats in the back, lying on his front, and couldn't get into the front fast enough. He took a few attempts to start the car with his hands shaking, and leant back to look at Biker in the back seats.

"Don't you dare fucking die. I'll kill you, I swear-"

"Doesn't that kinda not make sense?"

"Shut up, you know what I mean!"

The car started, and the tires screeched as Sasha sped away from the building. He couldn't waste any time with him bleeding so much, and every time he heard his breath seem to hitch or pause, every time he groaned in pain, his heart stuttered. This stupid fucking American, throwing himself into the fray when it meant protecting his life... He ran a red light, tried to keep him awake, talking to him. Asking him things.

"Tell me your name, Damon, talk to me."

"You just said it, dumbass."

He skidded around a corner, well over the speed limit. A police chase was the last thing he needed right now, he had to count on them knowing better than to chase after them.

"Fine, what's _my_ name?"

"...Sasha Lebedev."

They hit a pothole, and he heard Damon inhale sharply from the backseat. Sasha bit his lip, hard.

"Tell me... Shit, I don't know, what's ten plus ten?"

"I'm not... doing fucking math, Sasha... Fuck off with that."

They were close, and Sasha stepped on it. He just needed to get him inside, then everything would be fine, right? He knew the doctors were good, they would be able to help him, he'd be fine.

"Uh, who's the president right now?"

Silence.

"Damon?"

Silence, still. Sasha nearly crashed the car, looking behind him to fast. He swore, and tore his eyes away to look at the road. He swerved onto a parking spot and saw some men come rushing out, seemingly able to tell something was wrong. The moment the car stopped he turned again, heart stuttering at the sight of Damon, pale, back so barely rising and falling with each short breath he thought for a moment he'd simply stopped.

"Damon!"

* * *

Sasha picked at the bandages around his arm, pacing back and forth until his legs were tired, and then some. What was taking so long? He knew it was unreasonable to expect the doctors to deal with him quickly, with so much shrapnel, but still. He wanted to see him, alive and okay, with his own eyes.

He bit his lip at the image in his mind, of Biker bleeding in the back seat, in so much pain... He hated it, but it was all he could think about. He'd tried listening through the door, wanting to just hear something that would assure him he was doing fine, but he couldn't catch anything. It was so frustrating, he thought as he slumped into a seat; here he was, the most powerful man in Miami, completely unable to do anything to help Damon. All he could do was wait, and hope.

He put his head in his hands, feeling exhausted. He must have fallen asleep, though it was dreamless, as the next thing he knew he was being nudged awake by one of the doctors. He shot up in his seat, bolt upright, and his mouth was talking before his mind was even completely awake.

"Is he okay?"

The doctor seemed startled, and he couldn't read his expression well behind the surgical mask. He listened intently.

"He's alright, sir. You got him here just in time... Any later, and I don't know if we could have done anything."

Sasha's shoulders slumped in relief, and he felt a pang behind his eyes that he pushed down. Not now. He steeled himself and let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. He tried to ignore the fact the Biker had been minutes away from dying, and moved on to the next question.

"Is he... Is he awake?"

"He woke up a couple of minutes ago. That's why I came to wake-"

Sasha didn't need to hear any more. He leapt up from his seat and rushed into the room he'd been waiting outside of, flinging the door open and barely missing another doctor who was on his way out. Biker's mouth had just barely been forming his name in a tired greeting when he found Sasha leant over him, holding him.

"Damon!"

"Sasha..." He said, slightly breathless, flinching. "Take it easy, ow..."

Sasha drew back a little, trying his hardest to look pissed past his concern. "Stop.. stop doing that!"

"Stop doing what?" Biker smiled slightly.

Sasha finally couldn't hold back any longer. Hiccuping sobs bubbled up from his chest, as he buried his face in Damons, wetting the fabric with tears. "Stop getting hurt for me! Just... Stop it!"

Biker carefully put an arm around him, pulling him in closer. He chuckled a tiny bit in a attempt to lighten the mood. "But I'm your bodyguard. Isn't that my job?"

"I don't want it anymore!" Sashas grip tightened on his shirt, choking on sobs. "If you die I'll be alone!"

Biker felt his chest ache, and his eyes sting, swallowing as tears dripped down his own cheeks. He put both arms around Sasha as he cried into his chest, smoothing down his mussed up hair, murmuring comfort to him around the cracks in his own voice as he cried too. As Sasha's breath evened out he tilted his chin up and pressed their lips together briefly, then their foreheads. A hand came up to cup his cheek fondly, wiping the tears off his cheeks as he sniffled, eyes widening just a tiny bit when he realised Damon was crying too.

"I'm not going anywhere."

"You swear?"

"Damn right. I'm not leaving you behind, ever. Promise.

**Author's Note:**

> You know I had to do it to em
> 
> Thanks Killapunk for the angst fuel ✨


End file.
